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No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The Bone of Contention 

A Fairy Melodrama in One Act 



By 
GENEVIEVE K. McCONNELL 



PLEASE NOTICE 

The professional stage-riglits in this play are strictly reserved. 
Amateurs may obtain permission to produce it privately upon 
payment of a fee of five dollars (^5.00) for each performance, in 
advance. All payments and correspondence should be addressed 
to Norman Lee Swartout, 24 Blackburn Road, Summit, 
New Jersey. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO, 
1918 



The Bone of Contention 



# 



CHARACTERS 

{As originally produced by The Waterloo [Iowa) Community 

Drama League, October 12, Jgiy, at the Waterloo 

Community Theatre. ) 

Mother Esther Busie 

Child- - - - - - - - Donald Scane 4 

Grandmother ....--. Georgiella Lay 

Young Doctor Joe Du Mond 

Old Doctor Reno J. Reeve 

Medicine Margaret Johnson 

Mustard Genevieve Scarie 

Bedclothes Marion Longley 

Fresh Air Maxine Lainson 

Plain Food Louise Foivlcr 

Sound Sleep ....... Jndia Pickett 

Scene. — A child's bedroom. 
Time. — Any night. 




Copyright, 191 7, by Genevieve K. McConnell 
[As an unpublished dramatic composition) 

Copyright, 1918, by Genevieve K. McConnell 
As author and proprietor. 

Professional stage a7id moving picture rights reserved. 



/Wt) j 



The Bone of Contention 



SCENE. — A child's bedroom in a small-tozvn house. At 
L., dozvn stage, pidled out from the zvall, a bed. At u, 
lip stage, a tall screen. Chair by the bed and at l. c, 
a table. On r. a practical window. Cupboard up c. 
Tzvo doors at back r. and l. A chair near window r. 
The child's clothes are on another chair and there are 
toys about the room. 

(The Mother is discovered reading to the Child, who 
is sick in bed.) 

Mother (reading). "The Prince could not bear to 
part from Cinderella again, so he carried her back to the 
palace in his grand coach, and they were married that 
very day. Cinderella's stepsisters were present at the 
feast, but in the place of honor sat the fairy godmother." 

Child. Is that all? 

Mother. That is all, except that they lived happily 
ever after. 

Child. I'd like to see a fairy, mother. Do you ever 
see them ? 

Mother. No, dear, grown people never do. 

Child. But little girls and boys do, don't they, 
mother ? 

Mother. Yes, dear. 

Child. Read rne another story. 

Mother. No more to-night. 

Child. Please. 

Mother (rising and smoothing the Child's head 
anxiously) . Try to sleep now, my dear. 

Child (tossing about). I'm thirsty. 

3 



4 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

Mother (giving the Child water from, a cup). 
There, dear, you'll feel better now. 

Child. My throat hurts. 

Mother {arranging bandage around Child's throat). 
The doctor will soon be here. 

Child. I'm too hot. 

Mother {arranging the pillow and bedclothes). Yes, 
I know, dear. 

Child. I don't want the doctor. 

Enter Grandmother, u. r. 

Grandmother. How is the poor child ? 

Mother. No better. He complains all the time that 
his throat hurts and he's thirsty. 

Grandmother. Don't give him too much to drink and 
keep him well covered. This room is draughty. 

{She draws an extra quilt over the Child.) 

Mother. He says he's too hot. 

Grandmother. That is just the fever. You must 
keep him covered. 

Mother {crossing to the window). It seems very 
close in here. Suppose I open the window. 

Grandmother {stopping her). No, no, no ! Do you 
want to kill the child? Keep him warm, I tell you. 
Have you sent for the doctor ? 

Mother. Of course. 

Grandmother {at the cupboard, u. c). That's good. 
So have I. 

Mother. I don't mean the old doctor, mother. I 
have sent for the young doctor. 

Grandmother {turning quickly). What? That 
young fellow who has just come to town? What 
possessed you to send for him ? 

Mother. I've heard he is very good. 

Grandmother {sitting). He's nothing but a boy. 
What does he know about children? Why don't you 
send for our doctor, who has been looking after the fam- 
ily for the last fifty years? 

Mother. Just for that reason. He hasn't studied 
medicine for fifty years. He is getting deaf, too, and 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION 5 

doesn't see very well, and he has those horrid long 
whiskers, all full of germs. He wouldn't wear them if 
he had any idea of modern methods. 

Grandmother. Modern monkey-shines ! He knows 
a hundred times as much as that young whippersnapper 
with his germs and his jimcracks. As if a lot of little 
bugs we can't even see could make us sick. 

{There is a knock.) 
Mother. Sh ! Here he is now. 

(Opens R. door. Enter the Young Doctor.) 
Young Doctor. Good-evening. 
(He crosses to r. and puts his hat and coat on chair.) 

Mother. Good-evening, doctor. I'm so glad you've 
come. 

Grandmother (going to l.). Germs! — Good-even- 
ing, doctor. 

Young Doctor. Good-evening. 

Grandmother (to herself). He'll finish him. 

Young Doctor (approaching the bed cheerfully). 
How long has the child been ill ? 

Mother. Since morning. I've given him some castor 
oil. 

Child. My throat hurts. 

Young Doctor. We'll soon make that stop. Open 
your mouth and let me look at it. No? Oh, very well. 
(He slips spoon into Child's month and looks at throat.) 
Yes. His throat is a little inflamed. 

(He gets out stethoscope ; removes covers and listens 
to the Child's breathing.) 

Grandmother (to herself). Such nonsense! 

Young Doctor. No trouble below the throat. Have 
him gargle some salt water. Give him plenty of fresh 
air, plain food and sound sleep. Don't wake him on any 
account and be sure to keep the window wide open. 

(He opens the window. Grandmother is disgusted.) 

Child. Do vou believe in fairies, doctor? 



6 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

Young Doctor. I believe in some fairies. There's 
one called Fresh Air that's a great friend of mine. And 
then there's Plain Food and Sound Sleep. The best 
fairies that ever lived, and if you'll trust them they'll 
make you well, so you can get up and play. 

{He gets his hat and coat.) 

Child. Goody ! 

Grandmother {rising). Nonsense! Aren't you go- 
ing to give him any medicine ? 

Young Doctor {putting on his coat). He has all the 
medicine he needs. He'll be better in the morning. 

Grandmother. Surely he needs to take something, 
have something done to him? 

Young Doctor. I have told you all he needs. These 
are the three essentials : — fresh air, plain food and sound 
sleep. If you see that he has these three, nature will do 
the rest. You know all that we doctors can do is to 
assist nature. We are not magicians. Good-evening. 

[Exit, u. R. 

Grandmother. Well, of all the young upstarts. Shut 
that window. The room is getting cold. 

Mother. But the doctor opened it. 

Grandmother. I don't care who opened it. I'm go- 
ing to shut it. {She shuts zvindozv zvitJi a hang.) 

Mother. I think we ought to obey the doctor. 

Grandmother. Obey that boy? 

{She crosses hack to hed and pulls the quilt over the 
Child again. The Mother, on the other side of 
hed, pidls it off. They glare at each other.) 

Mother. Mother, it isn't right to make him so hot. 

Grandmother. I guess I know more about children 
than he does. I've had six. 

Mother. And raised two. 

Grandmother. It was the Lord's will. 

Mother. Yes. That was the old-fashioned way, to 
blame everything on the Lord. (There is a knock at 
door R.) Who can that be? 

Grandmother. I expect that is the other, — the real 
doctor. 



THE BONK OF CONTKNTION 7 

Mother. Who sent for him ? 
Grandmother. I did. I told you so. 
Mother. I didn't hear you. What shall we do ? 
Grandmother {opening door). Come right in, doc- 
tor. We've been expecting you. 

Enter Old Doctor, u. r. He puts his hat on cupboard 
but keeps on overcoat and driving gloves. 

Old Doctor {stroking his whiskers) . Good-evening, 
ladies. Where's the little patient? Ah, there you are, 
you rascal. Tut, tut. What do you mean by this getting 
sick and bringing the old doctor out at night, eh ? 

{He pokes the Child in the ribs.) 

Child. Don't. My throat hurts. 

Old Doctor. Throat, eh? Um-m-m, any fever? 
{Takes off one glove and feels the Child's hands and 
forehead.) Very hot, very hot. High fever. 

{Puts head down on Child's chest to listen to breath- 
ing.) 

Child. Go away. You are tickling me with your 
whiskers. 

Old Doctor {lifting his head). The disease has not 
reached the lungs yet. ( Gets his bag, opens it, disclosing 
long rows of medicine-bottles, selects three different 
colors and drops them into three glasses of water which 
Grandmother gets from cupboard.) Give him one tea- 
spoon of each of these every half hour. Keep him warm ; 
windows closed, plenty of covers. 

{Pidls quilt over the Child.) 

Grandmother {triumphantly). There, what did I 
tell you ? 

Old Doctor. Nothing to eat nor drink, and I will see 
him again in the morning. {Closes his bag, puts on glove 
and reaches for his hat.) Have some mustard ready for 



8 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

a hot foot-bath and some more heavy bedclothes in case 
of a chill in the night. 

Grandmother (admiringly). We always feel such 
confidence in you, doctor. 

Old Doctor. Still find you need the old doctor, eh? 
Haven't deserted the old man yet? 

Grandmother. Of course wq vi^ouldn*t desert you, 
doctor. 

Child. Do you believe in fairies ? 

Old Doctor. Fairies ? Bless your heart, of course I 
do. Why, the fairies work for me. There's the mustard 
fairy that makes the plasters and the hot foot-baths, and 
there's the bedclothes fairy that keeps little boys covered 
up at night, and the medicine fairy that makes you well. 

Child. I don't like those fairies. I like the other 
ones better. 

Mother. Hush, now, dear. You must stop talking 
and go to sleep. 

Old Doctor. So must I. Got to have my beauty 
sleep, you know. Ha, ha, ha ! Remember — medicine 
every half hour, plenty of bedclothes, no draughts and a 
hot mustard foot-bath in case of a chill. Good-night. 

Mother. Good-night. 

[Exit Old Doctor, u. r. 

Grandmother. Good-night, doctor. — There, what did 
I tell you ? The young doctor was all wrong. 

Mother. One of them certainly was wrong. 

Child. I like the young doctor best. 

Grandmother. We will have to sit up all night to 
give him the medicine. 

Mother. I don't see why both of us should sit up. 
You go to bed and if I get very sleepy I will call you. 
I'll sit up in the next room and read. 

Grandmother (going to door v. R.). Will you be 
sure to call me ? 

Mother. I'll be sure to call you if I need you. 
^ Grandmother. Very well. Don't forget the medi- 
cines. Good-night. [Exit, u. R. 

Mother. Good-night. I wish I knew what to do. I 
wish your father were here. He always knows what to 
do. (She tries to give a dose of medicine to the Child 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION 9 

who struggles and cries and spills most of the medicine, 
finally lying back exhausted.) My poor darling. Now 
try to go to sleep and let the fairies make you well. 

Child. Not the medicine fairy, mother. He's bad. 
I like the fresh air fairy best. Do you think she'll come ? 

Mother. If you are a good boy and go right to sleep 
I am sure they will all come. 

{She shades the light and goes about the room arrang- 
ing things for the night. She takes the mustard tin 
from beneath the cupboard and puts it on the table. 
At the windozv she hesitates, reaches out to open it 
once or twice, then stops, but finally raises it. Steals 
softly over to the Child, who seems to be sleeping, 
turns down the covers a little, kisses him, stands 
looking at him a moment and then tiptoes off. Exit 
Mother, u. l.) 

(As soon as the door closes an ugly Old Witch, Medi- 
cine, carrying a large bottle and a huge spoon, comes 
from behind the table. Goes down front where she 
stands a moment and pours a colored liquid from the 
bottle into the spoon, then crosses to the bed and 
pokes the Child, who wakes up.) 

Child {as in a dream). Who are you? 

Medicine. I'm Medicine, — bad Medicine, and I'm 
going to dose you. 

Child. You shan't dose me. 

Medicine {with a sneering laugh). Oh, but I will, I 
will, I will ! He, he, he ! 

{They struggle. The Child cries.) 

Child. Stop it ! 

Medicine. Mustard ! My son, Mustard ! Come and 
help me. 

{The cupboard door opens and out jumps a little imp, 
Mustard, all dressed in yellow.) 

Mustard. Here's Mustard. Look out for me. I'll 
make you smart. 

Child. Stop, stop ! You're hurting me. 



10 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

(Mustard joins in the struggle, the Child still getting 
slightly the better of his assailants.) 

Medicine. Where's Heavy Bedclothes? We need 
his help too. Bedclothes, where are you ? 

{A queer creature, Bedclothes, wrapped in a down 
quilt and a blanket, rolls out from under the bed.) 

Bedclothes. Here I come. V\\ smother him. 

{He leaps upon the bed and tries to smother the Child, 
who after a little more fighting falls back apparently 
dead. The three bad fairies stand for a moment 
surveying their work, exchanging nods and grins.) 

Medicine. Hurrah ! He's done for! {They all 
laugh weirdly and then join hands and perform a gro- 
tesque dance around the bed in honor of their victory, 
chanting a funeral march. In the midst of this. Medi- 
cine Jiotices that the window is open. They all stop 
suddenly.) Look here. The window is open. 

Bedclothes {shivering) . Something might come in. 

Mustard. We are not safe here. 

(Medicine crawls under the table. Bedclothes \inder 
the bed and Mustard into the cupboard. A bright 
light shines in from outside the zvindow, the curtains 
blow, and then a fairy. Fresh Air, clad in glittering 
tinsel, and carrying a huge fan, steps lightly in. ) 

Fresh Air. Make way for Fresh Air, foolish house- 
lings, for I am your best friend ! 

{She laughs and whirls around, waving the fan over 
her head, gradually approaching the bed, where she 
stands facing the Child until he revives.) 

Child. Oh, Fm so hot. 

Fresh Air. No wonder. You are nearly smothered. 

{She pulls off some of the bedclothes and throws them 
to the floor.) 

Child. The bad fairies were here just now. They 
nearly killed me. Are they all gone ? 
Fresh Air. What bad' fairies? 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION II 

Child. Medicine and Mustard and Bedclothes. Oh, 
I'm afraid they'll come back again. 

Fresh Air. I'll fight them if they do. Don't be 
afraid. 

Child. You must be a good fairy. What is your 
name ? 

Fresh Air. My name is Fresh Air. 

Child. That's a funny name for a fairy. 

Fresh Air. It's not so funny as some of them. 
What's the matter with you? Why weren't you out 
playing with me to-day? 

Child. I'm sick. 

Fresh Air. Sick? How? Where? What hurts 
you ? 

Child. I don't know. 

Fresh Air (laughing). He's sick and he doesn't 
know what hurts him. Is there anything you want ? 

Child. I want something to eat. 

Fresh Air. Something to eat? That's easy. (She 
goes to cupboard and raps on the door.) Plain Food, 
you're wanted. 

(Plain Food, a healthy little chap dressed all in white 
(or, if possible, made to represent a loaf of bread and 
wearing a chef's cap) steps into the room.) 

Plain Food. Who wants me ? 

Fresh Air. A hungry boy who thinks he's sick. 

Plain Food (holding out a plate of bread and a ciip 
of milk). Here's bread and here's milk for the hungry 
little boy who thinks he's sick.- 

(Both fairies laugh.) 

Child. Give them to me. 

Plain Food (holding tJie plate behind his back). Say 
please. 

Child (almost crying). Please. 

Plain Food (giving h'nn tJie bread). There, I was 
only teasing. 

Child. I didn't know that fairies, good fairies, teased. 

Fresh Air. We do though. Just watch me tease that 



12 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

old doctor the next time he goes out. Watch me blow 
through his whiskers. 

{She whirls and laughs and the Child joins in.) 

Child. Do you know, it's fun being sick and seeing 
fairies in the night. {He finishes the bread and hands 
the plate back to Plain Food, who places it on the table.) 
I don't see why you are called Plain Food. I don't think 
you are plain at all. I think you are beautiful. 

Plain Food {handing him the cup of milk). I am 
glad you like me. 

Fresh Air. After you finish your milk you must go 
to sleep. 

Child. I can't go to sleep. 

Fresh Air. Then sleep must come to you. 

(Child finishes milk and hands the cup back to Plain 
Food, who places it on table.) 

Child. How can sleep come to me? 

Fresh Air. Watch and see. {She dances around 
the room zvith Plain Food.) Sleep, Sound Sleep, where 
are you ? 

(Sound Sleep glides from behind the screen at the 
back of the bed, all dressed in misty gray.) 

Sleep. Who called Sleep? 

Fresh Air. We did. 

Plain Food. Come and sing this little boy to sleep. 

Sleep {slozvly and soothingly). Why can't the little 
boy come to me? 

Fresh Air. He says he's sick. 

Child. I was sick. Pm just sleepy now. 

Sleep {leaning over the bed, singing and sifting sand 
throitgh her fingers). 

Fairy Fresh Air has fanned you, 

Pll fill your eyes with sand, you 

Sleepy small thing. 

Fairy Plain Food has fed you. 

Lie still in your bed, you 

Bird 'neath miy wing. 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION 



13 



(She spreads her arms like wings, with gray draperies 
over the Child, who sleeps peacefully.) He sleeps. 

{All three fairies join hands and dance softly around 
the bed, weaving all sorts of mystical patterns with 
fan and draperies. In the midst of their revels. Bed- 
clothes sneaks from under the bed and grabs Fresh 
Air by the leg. Fresh Air runs to r.) 

Fresh Air (dodging the quilt in which Bedclothes 
is trying to wrap her). Who are you, you stuffy 
creature ? 

Bedclothes. I am Bedclothes, and I hate you, Fresh 
Air. Let me get at the child. 

Fresh Air. No, no, no ! 

(She tries to fan him away and they fight. Mustard 
comes from the cupboard and tries to attack the 
Child.) 

Mustard. My mother. Medicine, called me to help 
put an end to this child. Let me at him. 

Plain Food (grappling with Mustard). You shan't 
touch him. 

(Medicine appears from under the table.) 

Sleep (stopping Medicine). Who are you that you 
dare to interfere with Sleep? 

Medicine. I am Medicine. This child belongs to me. 
Stand aside. 

Sleep (defending the Child, who zvakes and hides 
behind the covers). Never! (They fight.) 

(The three bad fairies break away from the good 
fairies and rush upon the Child.) 

Bedclothes. Now Fll smother you. 

Mustard. I'll burn you. 

Medicine. FU dose him. 

Child. Help ! Help ! 

Fresh Air (fanning vigorously). Under the bed 
with you ! n 

Plain Food (supporting the Child). Back into the 
cupboard ! 



14 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

Fresh Air (to Child). You must fight too. We 
cannot win without your help. 

(The Child fights. Fresh Air succeeds in pulling 
Bedclothes off the bed and rolling him underneath. 
Plain Food chases Mustard back into cupboard 
and slams the door.) 

Sleep. Now let's fix Medicine! 

(They capture Medicine.) 

Plain Food. Dose her good with her own medicine. 
See how she likes that. 

(They force Medicine dowji stage and give him a dose 
of medicine from the huge bottle and spoon. Medi- 
cine is overcome and they carry him to the window 
and throw him out.) 

Fresh Air. That's the best place for the horrid 
creature. 

Child. Are they all gone ? 

Fresh Air. All gone, and I hope for good. 

Sleep. Come, let us give the child our three gifts and 
be gone, for he must sleep, and it is near dawn. 

Child. Oh, have you three gifts for me? What are 
they? 

Fresh Air. I will give you health. 

(She kisses the Cpiild.) 
Plain Food. I will give you strength. 

(She puts her arms around the Child.) 
Sleep. I will give you rest. 

(She strokes the Child's head.) 

Child (disappointed). I thought you would give me 
a pumpkin coach and rats for hor.ses like Cinderella's 
fairy did. 

Fresh Air (laughing). Oh, we fairies nowadays 
give better gifts than that. 

Sleep. And now you must go to sleep again. 

(All three fairies dance once more their intricate dance. 
Sound Sleep goes nearer and nearer until she stands 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION I5 

with her draperies extended over the Child who 
goes to sleep. Then the three fairies all slip quietly 
out through the window. It has grown gradually 
light. After a short moment Mother enters from 
u. L.) 

Mother. It's morning. I must have fallen asleep. 

{She discovers the upset medicine bottle, picks up the 
mustard box and places it on table, examines the 
plate and cup and indicates that she is puzzled and 
somewhat distressed. She tiptoes to the bed and 
replaces the quilt but does not put it up around the 
Child's neck. She feels his hands and forehead 
and looks relieved. Grandmother enters u. r.) 

Grandmother. How is he? 

Mother. Better, I think. He is sleeping. Were you 
in here during the night? 

Grandmother. No. Why? 

Mother. I fell asleep myself and when I came in 
here this morning I found the medicine upset, the mus- 
tard on the floor, the covers pulled off and these dishes 
on the table. 

Grandmother. Perhaps he was out of his head and 
got up. 

Mother. I hardly think so. See how quietly he is 
sleeping. 

Grandmother. Ouiet sleep is always deceptive. My 
first child went like that. 

Mother (zvincing). Please don't talk that way, 
mother. 

(Grandmother closes the window and covers the 
Child. Mother picks up the room and wipes the 
table and floor where the medicine has been spilled. 
There is a knock u. r. but before they answer the 
door opens and the Old Doctor enters.) 

Old Doctor. Good-morning, ladies. Ancf how is the 
little patient? Sleeping, I see. (He crosses to Child.) 
Pulse better. Not so much fever. That is the result of 
my medicine. But we are not out of the woods yet. The 
disease may attack the lungs at any moment. We must 



l6 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

continue the same treatment. And in addition — (he 
opens his medicine-case and selects another bottle) one 
of these every hour, a hot mustard foot-bath, and a flax- 
seed poultice on the chest if he begins to cough. It is 
necessary to be very careful. 

Mother (anxiously). Yes, doctor. 

Old Doctor. Shield him from the slightest draught 
and keep him well covered. A little barley water if he is 
hungry. If you follow my instructions exactly I think I 
can save the child. 

Mother. Save him ? Do you think he is seriously ill ? 

Old Doctor. Not at present. 

Mother. But do you think he will be? 

Old Doctor. We never can tell. This is the crisis. 
This is not a natural sleep. When he comes out of it he 
may be better — or There, there, keep up your cour- 
age. All may yet be well. 

Mother (dropping into chair and hiding her face). 
My poor baby. 

(Old Doctor joins Grandmother r. They whisper. 
Young Doctor enters u. r. unobserved.) 

Young Doctor (at bedside). I see the child is better 
as I expected. You did what I said about the window 
and the covers and the food ? 

Mother (rising). Vm afraid I didn't, doctor, alto- 
gether. You see my mother was so sure you were all 
wrong. She doesn't believe in modern methods. Bur 
the window was wide open all night. 

Old Doctor (coming forward pompously, coat, gloves 
and hat in hand). What's the meaning of this? Are 
you under the impression that you are in charge of this 
case? 

Young Doctor. I supposed I was. But of course if 
they prefer your services I shall withdraw. 

Mother. Oh, doctor, please don't go. 

Young Doctor (hesitating and looking at Old Doc- 
tor). Medical etiquette demands that one of us with- 
draw. 

Old Doctor. Medical etiquette be hanged ! I intend 
to save this child. 



THE BONE OF CONTENTION 



17 



{Takes off his coat and throws it with his hat on chair.) 

Young Doctor. And so do I. 

Old Doctor {glaring). You must permit me to take 
the necessary measure to insure this child's recovery. 

Young Doctor. Nonsense! All this child needs is 
•plenty of fresh air, a little plain food and sleep. 

Old Doctor {fiirioiisly) . Young man, I am old 
enough to be your grandfather and I know more about 
the practice of medicine than you ever dreamed of. You 
will kill this child if you expose him to draughts and fill 
his stomach with food he cannot digest. What he needs 
is medicine, barley water and warmth. I forbid you to 
open that window. 

Young Doctor. Nevertheless that is what I am go- 
ing to do. {He opens window.) 

Grandmother. Don't you dare put that window up. 

Mother {holding her hack). Let him alone, mother. 

Old Doctor. We cannot stand here and quarrel over 
this ailing child like dogs over a bone. Once for all, 
which do you choose? Will you risk your child's life 
with these " modern methods " or will you follow the 
safe paths of the old way? 

Grandmother. The old way, of course, doctor. 

Mother {decisively). Please, mother. He is my 
child and I think I should be the one to decide. 

Grandmother. But 

Mother. I choose the new way. 

Old Doctor {shutting his bag with a snap, putting on 
coat, jamming his hat down to his ears and zvith infinite 
contempt). Very well. I am no longer responsible for 
what happens. — The young conceited cub ! 

{Exit Old Doctor, u. r. The Child, unobserved by 
the others, has waked and now jumps from the bed 
and dances around the room.) 

Grandmother {horrified at seeing Child). Oh, my 
child, what are you thinking of ? Get right back and lie 
down. {She tries to pidl him back to bed.) 

Child. Leave me alone, grandmother. I'm dancing 
the fairies' dance. 



l8 THE BONE OF CONTENTION 

YouN'G Doctor. Oho, so the fairies have been here? 

Child. Yes. First came the bad ones: — Medicine, 
Mustard and Bedclothes. They were awful. Then came 
the good ones — Air and Food and Sleep. They were 
lovely. And oh, you should have seen the fight ! It was 
great ! {He throws a pillow at Grandmother.) 

Young Doctor. And who won ? 

Child. I did. But the good fairies helped me. I 
couldn't have done it without them. 

Young Doctor. Of course not. And now, young 
man, you may get on your clothes and after breakfast 
run out to play. You are well. 

(Grandmother is inarticulate with disapproval and 
flounces from the room shaking her head. The 
Doctor laughs.) 

Child {throwing another pillow high into the air). 
Hurrah ! 

{He flings himself into his Mother's open arms.) 



CURTAIN 



New Plays for Girls' Schools 

By Ehie Fogerty and others 

The following adaptations from standard plays, classical and modern, 
have been specially arranged for amateur performance in girls' schools. 
The text is accompanied in all cases by all necessary plates and diagrams, 
and by full and minute marginal notes and instructions for production. A 
copious introduction gives a full description of the stage, the lighting, the 
costumes, properties, both stage and hand, and answers in advance all 
possible questions that may come up in the process of rehearsal. In all 
respects they are the most complete and helpful versions of plays ever 
offered for acting. 



The Alkestis of Euripides 

Adapted by Elsie Fogerty 

Nine characters and chorus. 

Plays an hour and a half. 

Price, 2j cents 



The Antigone of Sophocles 

Adapted by Elsie Fogerty 
Eleven characters and chorus. 
Plays two hours. 
Price, 2^ cents 



Scenes From the Qreal Novelists 

Adapted by Elsie Fogerty 

Scenes from The Abbott, by Scott. "The Changing of the Keys." 

Seven characters — plays forty minutes. 
Scene from The Mill on the Floss, by George Eliot. " Mrs. 

Pullet'o New Bonnet." Five characters — plays twenty minutes. 
Scene from Adam Bede, by George Eliot. " Mrs. Poyser has her 

Say." Five characters — plays twenty-five minutes. 

Scene from A Christmas Carol, by Dickens. « The Cratchits' 

Christmas Dinner." Eight characters — plays forty minutes. 

Price, 2^ cents 



The Masque of Comus 

By Milton. Adapted by Lucy Chater 

LN^ine characters and cliorus. Plays 

forty minutes ; with music. 

PricCf 2j cents 



The Enterprise of the Mayflower 

/;/ Fotir Acts, by A?nice Alacdonell 
For Children. Fourteen characters 
Plays an hour an a half. 
Price, 2^ cents 



Sent post-paid by mail on receipt of price 

BAKER, 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass. 



MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 

A Farce in Three Acts 
By Macpherson Janney 

Eight males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an easy in- 
terior. Plays a full evening. Professional rights reserved. Prentice, out 
of favor with a rich uncle who supports him because he declines to marry 
a girl the uncle has picked out, encounters her by accident and has to 
masquerade as " Mr. Kelley." The encounter is complicated by the pres- 
ence of Ted Strong, of the St. Louis " Nationals " and the Rev. Ernest 
Frey, both of whom get mixed up with " Kelley " and with one another. 
It finally appears that his uncle's choice and the girl for whom Prentice 
has thrown her over are one and the same and all ends well. An ex- 
ceptionally bright and laughable farce ; characters first class ; situations 
side splitting, dialogue very funny. A sure hit and can be recommended 
for schools. 

Price, 2_§ cents 

CHARACTERS 
CL4RENCE Prentice, 7nore or less a gentleman of leisure. 
Henry Tetlow, his uncle, an impressario. 
RuFE King, his brother-in-law. 

The Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict' s, Heatlifield PatiiK 
Ted Strong, late of the St. Louis "Natiofials.'* 
Ignatz Demarest Rogers, a syncopated genius. 
Barton, butler at the Tetlozus . 
Jim, a policeman. 

Madelaine Sanderson, Tetlow s wnr4. 
Mary King, his niece. 

Leslie Hill, late of the "Folies Bergeres. * 
Students of Raeton College. 

Scene. — Tetlow's home, Raeton. 
Time. — The opening night of college. 



THE VILLAGE POSTMISTRESS 

A Rural Comedy Drama in Three Acts 
By Bertha Currier Porter 

Six males, six females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two intenors. 
Plays two hours. Alice, a nameless girl who lives with the Websters, ia 
loved by the idolized son of llie family. The mother, learning of this, 
turns her out of the house into the storm in his absence. The search that 
follows her departure discovers her to be the daughter of an early lover 
of the woman who sent her away. She is finally found and all ends 
happily. A simple but powerful story told by a cast of strong and well- 
drawn characters. Plenty of humor ; clean and bright. Strongly reccrm- 
mended. 

Price, 7.5 cents 



FOR COLLEGE THEATRICALS 

FORTUNE BY LAND AND SEA^ 

A Tragi- Comedy in Five Acts 
By Thomas Heywood atid Williain Rowley 

Ar acting version arranged for the Annual Theatricals of the Harvard 

ifChapter of Delta Upsilon for 1899 

By Janet Edmonson Walker 

Eighteen male, three female characteis. Costumes, Elizabethan; 
scenery, varied, but may easily be dispensed with, the piece being even 
advantaged by production under the conditions of its period. Intended to 
serve as a full evening's bill. This is one of the items of a considerable 
list of tlie productions of the Harvard Dramatic Club that u^ere to have 
been announced but that were abandoned as an indirect consequence of 
the European war. The version offered has been acted with great suc- 
cess and is entirely competent material for similar experiments by other 
colleges and schools. The serious interest in drama study that is one of 
the most conspicuous features of the present educational scheme has 
originated a demand for acting material of real value, and we are fortu- 
nate to be able to answer to jt with a piece of such high literary and his- 
trionic merit. d •* a ^ - ^ >. 

Frice, boards y Jo cents per copy 

CHARACTERS 

Old Forrest. Purser \ j.- ^ 

Frank Forrest ) , . Clinton j P^^^^^^' 

Young Forrest | ^""^ •^^'"- Clown. 

Old Harding. Pursuivant. 

Philip, his eldest so7i, married to Host. 

Susan Forrest. Sailor. 

William ) , . Hangman. 

JOHN \hts younger sons. ^j^^^ ^^^ Harding, second 

Master Rainsforth, a quarrel- wife to Old Harding. 

some gentleman. Susan, daughter of Old Forreit^ 

Goodwin | friends to Rains- zvife to Philip Harding. 

Foster ) forth. Bess, barmaid. 
A Merchant, brother to Mrs. 

Harding. Drawers, Officers, etc. 

TOO MUCH SALT 

A Comedy in One Act 
By G. S. Bryan 
Three male, three female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, a 
simple interior. Plays twenty minutes. A young husband brings home a 
friend to dinner to find that the cook has left and his wife has cooked the 
dinner. A series of disasters brings about a state of war and upon the 
battle-field arrive the wife's uncle and aunt as reinforcements. A flank 
movement by Auntie's pet dog turns the day, and all ends well. A 
trifle that can be recommended. 

Price, 75 cents 



NO TRESPASSING 

A Play in Three Acts 
By Evelyn Gray Whiting 
Six males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, a single easy in- 
terior. Plays two hours. Free of royalty. Lisle Irving, a lively " city 
girl," goes down into the country on a vacation and to get rid of a hus- 
band of her father's choice whom she has never seen, and runs into the 
very man living there under another name. He meets her by accident 
and takes her to be one of a pair of twins who have been living at the 
farmhouse. She discovers his mistake and in the character of both twins 
in alternation gives him the time of his life, incidentally falling in love 
with him. An unusual abundance of good comedy characters, including 
one — Bill Meader — of great originality and humor, sure to make a big 
hit. Strongly recommended. 

Price, 2J cents 

CHARACTERS 
Bill Meader, "on the town.'' 

Jim Meader, son of Bill, a boy of sixteen to eighteen. 
Mr. Palmer, a New England fanner. 
Cleveland Tower, a young city fellow, guest of Raynor, 
Herbert Edmand Raynor, a young Englishman. 
Mr. Ikyi-hg, father of Lisle. 
Lisle Irving, a girl of seventeen. 
Peggy Palmer, a girl of eighteeji or tiuenty. 
Mrs. Palmer, Peggy s mother. 
Barbara Palmer, a girl of ten or twelve years^ 
Almeda Meader, a girl about Barbara' s age. 

THE GIRL UP-STAIRS 

A Comedy in Two Acts 

By Gladys Ruth Bridgham 

Seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an interior. Plays an 

♦our. Daisy Jordan, crazy to get " on the stage," comes to New York 

iwid starves there in a lodging house waiting for her chance. She schemes 

to get an interview with Cicely Denver, a popular actress, to act before 

her, but the result is not at all what she intended. A capital play with 

strong and ingenious opportunities for good acting. Recommended. 

Price, ij cents 

TICKETS, PLEASE! 

A Comedy in One Act 
By Irving Dale 
Four females. Costumes, modern and fashionable ; scenery, an in- 
terior, not important. Plays twenty minutes. Mignon asks Charlotte to 
ge^ the theatre tickets, Charlotte asks Maude to get tliem, Maude hands 
over three to Linda, who leaves two at Mignon's house after she has left 
home. But they get to the theatre somehow. Bright, funny and char* 
acteristic. Strongly recommended. Price ^ ts cents 



WILLOWDALE 

A Play in Three Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Seven males, five f© 
males. Scenery, two easy interiors ; costumes, modern. This is a play ol 
exceptional interest and power. Admirably suited for amateur perform- 
ance, all the parts being good. Godfrey is an admirable heavy part, Joel, 
Lem and Simon capital character parts, Mis' Hazey a novel eccentric bit, 
and Oleander a part of screaming comedy. Plays two hours and a quarter. 
Price, 2 J cents 

THE VILLAGE SCHOOL MA'AM 

A Play in Three Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Six males, five females. 
Costumes, modern ; scenes, an interior and an exterior, or can be played in 
two interiors. Plays two hours or more. Combines a strong sympathetic 
mterest with an abundance of comedy. The parts are unusually equal in 
opportunity, are vigorously drawn and easily actable. No dialect parts, 
but plenty of variety in the comedy roles and lots of amusing incident 
Can be strongly recommended. Price, 2^ cents 

BAR HAVEN 

A Comedy in Three Acts by Gordan V. May Six males, five females 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors and an exterior, not difficult. 
Plays two hours. An excellent piece, mingling a strongly serious interest 
with abundant humor. Offers a great variety of good parts of nearly 
equal opportunity. Admirably suited for amateur performance, and 
strongly recommended. Price, 2^ cents 

DOWN IN MAINE 

A Drama in Four Acts by Charles Townsend. Eight male, four female 
characters. This play has no villains, no tangled plot nor sentimental 
love scenes; yet the climaxes are strong, the action brisk, and the humor 
genial, and the characters strongly drawn. Can be played in any hall ; 
scenery, of the easiest sort. Properties, few and simple ; costumes, 
modern. Plays a full evening. Strongly recommended. Price, 2j cents 

HIGBEE OF HARVARD 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Charles Townsend. Five males, 
four females. Modern costumes ; scenes, two interiors and an exterior — 
the latter may be played as well in an interior, if preferred. Plays a full 
evening. A clever, up-to-date piece, well suited for amateur performance. 
No small parts; all good. Good plot, full of incident, no love-making, 
interest strong and sustained. Price, ij cents 

HOW JIM MADE GOOD 

A Comedy Drama in Four Acts by Charles S. Bird. Seven males, 
three females ; two male parts can be doubled. Costumes, modern ; 
scenery, three interiors. Plays two hours. An unusually sympathetic 
play, well suited to amateurs. Clean and easy to get up. Recommended 
to high schools. All the parts are good. Price, 25 cents 



THE TIME OF HIS LIFE 

A Comedy in Three Acts by C. Leona Dalrymple. Six males, three 
females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors, or can be played in 
one. Plays two hours and a half. A side-splitting piece, full of action 
and a sure success if competently acted. Tom Carter's little joke of im- 
personating the colored butler has unexpected consequences that give him 
«' the time of his life." Very highly recommended for high school per- 
formance. FricCi 2S cents 

THE COLLEGE CHAP 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Harry L. Newton and John 
Pierre Roche. Eleven males, seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 
two interiors. Plays two and a half hours. An admirable play for ama- 
teurs. Absolutely American in spirit and up to date ; full of sympathetic 
interest but plenty of comedy ; lots of healthy sentiment, but nothing 
" mushy." Just the thing for high schools ; sane, effective, and not dif 
ficult. Price^ 2J cents 

THE DEACON'S SECOND WIFE 

A Comedy in Three Acts by Allan Abbott. Six males, six females. 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior, one exterior. Plays two houn 
and a half A play of rural life specially written for school performance. 
All the parts are good and of nearly equal opportunity, and the piece is full 
of laughs. Easy to produce ; no awkward sentimental scenes ; can bi 
strongly recommended for high schools. Pricey sj cents 

THE TEASER 

A Rural Comedy in Three Acts by Charles S. Allen. Four male, three 
female characters. Scene, an easy interior, the same for all three acts ; 
costumes, modern. Plays an hour and a half A.n admirable play for 
amateurs, very easy to get up, and very effective. Uraliah Higgins, a 
country postman, and Drusilla Todd are capital comedy parts, introducing 
songs or specialties, if desired. Plenty of incidental fun. 
Price, 2^ cents 

COUNTRY FOLKS 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Anthony E. Wills, Six males, five 
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, one interior. Plays two and a 
quarter hours. An effective and up-to-date play well suited for amateur 
performance. All the parts good and fairly even in point of 0]")portunity ; 
the ladies' parts especially so. Easy to stage, and well suited for schools. 
Well recommended. Price, 2j cents 

THE MISHAPS OF MINERVA 

A Farce in Two Acts by Bertha Currier Porter. Five males, eight fe- 
males. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays one and a hall 
hours. An exceptionally bright and amusing little play of high class and 
recommended to all classes of amateur players. Full of actioti ant? 
laughs, but refined. Irish low comedy part. Strongly endorsed. 
Price, 2j) cints 



B* 01* Pfncro's Plays 

Price, 50 gcnte Cacb 



Min rilANNFI ^^*y ^° ^°^ ^°*^s. six males, five females. 
IUll/-Vllr&liili^ij Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. 
Plays two and a half hours. 

THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH 2J?r'^i^TE 

males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interfors. 
Plays a full evening. 

THF PRflFf IPATF Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five 
* "*-• * ".vl LiiU A 1 u females. Scenery, three interiors, rather 
•lahorate ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THE SCHOOLMISTRESS s^^-'l'SS.^'&t^Sr^ll: 

em; ecenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY ggt'-S^^SVa 

females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a 
full evening. 

QWFFT f AVFlSiriFI? Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, 
OllLtLtl Ld\l uiJULsIX four females. Scene, a single interior, 
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

Till? TUITMnrDRni T comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, 
inUi inunLrEiflVDUJLi nine females. Scenery, three interi- 
ors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 

THF TIMF^ Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females 
lAl*-« IIWHjiJ Scene, a sinffle interior : costumes, modern. Plavj 



a full evening. 



Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays 



THF WFAITFR QFY Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, 
ini:i TT fiAIVCiix OLtA eight females. Costumes, modern; 
scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening. 

A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE F?ve^males, four females! 
Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

Salter J^. ^afecr & Companp 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



Cl)tl 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
III 




014 211 935 3 $ ^(((qK 

Of $la;0 



AC VnH I l¥V IT Comedy In Fire Aets. Thirteen malea, four 
mO Ivll MAI4 11 females. Ooatomea, picturesque ; scenery, Ta- 
iled. PUys a full erening. 

riMIT I P Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, flTe females. Cos- 
vAOUldfC tumes, modem ; scenery, varied. Flays a full eTening. 

INISAMAD ^^7 ^ ^"^^ '^^^"- 'Hilrteen males, three females. 
UlUvraAA Bcenery raried ; costiuues, Greek. Plays a full evening. 

MADT CTIIADT Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- 
luAIVl JIUAAI males, and supernumeraries. (Jostumes, of the 
period ; scenery, raried and elaborate. Plays a full evening. 

THE MERCHANT OF TENICE £S'.tjL'?r,;*ml!2: SSSSS; 

picturesque ; scenery varied. Plays a full evening. 

RICHFTJFH P^7*°^^*'^c^- Fifteen males, two females. Been- 



evening. 



ery elaborate ; costumes of the period. Plays a full 



THP DIVAI C Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, live females. 
lUIi KlTALd Bcenery vaHed; coatur 



full evening. 



costumes of the period. Plays a 



SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER SSSSfU? ,Sr:..t°"BJ257i 

ried ; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening. 

TWELFTH NlfiHT; OR, WHAT TOD WILL SJSiCmSi: 

three females. Costomes, picturesque; scenery, varied. Plays a 
full evening. 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

3^aUet ^. iBaiier & Company 

Fo. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachnsettt 



• . J, PARKHILL a CO.. PRINTBNS. eOSTON, U.S.A. 



